


ain't it a gentle sound, the rollin' in the graves?

by Dabberdees



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, I See Dead People, M/M, The Haunting of Villa Diodati, Thirteen doesn't know when to stop and now she's haunted, bi Graham, well more so than usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22778746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dabberdees/pseuds/Dabberdees
Summary: 'You know, the maid and the creepy little kid?''Er... no. We thought you saw Shelley, like we did.'The thought continues in Graham's head, forcing him to think back to previous visions he's had that he assumed was just his wild imagination. A quick discussion with the Doctor leads them both a the river and then to the revelation that the supernatural is closer than they first thought.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Graham O'Brien, Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan & Graham O'Brien & Ryan Sinclair
Comments: 30
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

Little nudges, slight cold spots in an otherwise warm room, and the auras within them has been a thing that Graham has noticed for as long as he can remember. His parents said he had a wild imagination as a child, always talking about friends. Even animals in some cases, pets long dead since before he was born.

_'Mum, I spoke to a cat today-'_

_'Did you?'_ His mother smiled. _'What did you talk about?'_

 _'Not much,'_ Graham said, his attention split on the conversation and the drawing of a ginger tomcat. _'He was nice. He said his name was Muffin, mum-'_

The shock, her face pale and drawn the moment the name left little ten-year-old Graham's mouth. _'What did you say?'_

 _'Muffin, look-'_ He holds the paper up. _'-He's a ginger one, big and strong like a tiger-'_

At the time, he didn't know why she took the picture or sent him to his room without dinner. He frowned all the way upstairs, kicking them as he went.

It was an hour or so later when he heard the hushed voices while he played in his room. Mum telling his dad when he got home from work-

 _'Albert, did you show Graham our cat from-'_ His mother's voice hesitated, a door shutting before continuing. Graham tried to listen in, but the muffled voices soon lost his interest when he saw the cat again, lounging on his bed. That's far more interesting to him.

But after that, they discouraged him from drawing his friends or the cat. The woman in the long dress, always kind and smiling when he sat next to her on the park bench. The man in the greenish coat opposite the monument, face far too young and eyes clouded, he never spoke, but he listened to Graham chatting about school, how the other kids and him never really got along. He preferred his friends, the ones they claim they can't see because they never poked fun at him.

Of course, that worried his parents even more so they sent him to Sunday school to make friends at fourteen, or at least try to. He soon ditched that though, played truant and messed around by the river with the other kid that was there. Slightly wet, skin paled and greyish.

 _'Hey, Adam-'_ Graham always called out to him, arm waving in the air. Adam always turned around, sluggish, eyes with a permanent shadow under them.

_'Graham.'_

He said back before turning to face the river again. Adam never partook in whatever it was that Graham was doing, be it homework for his proper school or simple drawings that he hid from his parents. He drew Adam a lot, but he never showed the other boy them for fear that he would react in much the same that his parents did. Taking them and whatever it was he was drawing with away, sending him upstairs and murmuring again.

But that soon got boring and the homework ever harder, his mind stuck in two places all the time. He wanted something else to do, and it was a hot day, surely a swim couldn't hurt, could it? Adam always seemed damp, maybe he swam-

Graham dropped his bag on the floor after shoving his scraps of paper back into it and made a move towards the murky river. He kicked his shoes off, started to unbutton the plain white shirt he had on, only to stop when Adam's hand latched around his arm.

Freezing cold, soaking wet and eyes glassy. _'Don't.'_ The other boy said, voice coming out like it's trapped underwater. _'Never swim after it rains, Graham.'_

Graham felt locked to the spot, eyes widening when he stared at Adam's morphing form, fear creeping up his spine as the other lads' skin bubbled and leaked murky fluid-

And he ran, leaving behind his bag and books and shoes, panic filling him. Fourteen years old now and scared, so scared. Heart thumping in his chest as he rushed into the house, thankful that his parents were at church.

He never bunked off Sunday school after that, too scared to go back to the river to see Adam. Too scared to visit the park bench now, the smiling woman's dress, covered in blood, the young man in the green coat, gaping wound in his head-

Even the cat, sickly and old and dead-looking on his bed-

He shut them out, burnt or destroyed whatever it was he drew. Pretended that they never existed because that was easier and less scary to his fourteen-year-old self and soon enough they didn't, the smiling woman gone from the bench when he and his mum took a shortcut through the park. The man in the green coat by the monument faded as well.

Funnily enough, it took him even longer to approach the river again and the spot that Adam always stood in. Twenty years old and reluctantly dragged there by a friend from work.

 _'Come on, Graham, it's fun-'_ Mike said, ditching his top. _'I used to come here all the time in the summer.'_

_'Maybe if I just watch-'_

_'Why?'_

Graham hesitated on the answer. _'I don't think it's a good idea to swim in there, Mike, it's dark, you don't know what's in it.'_

 _'It's fine,'_ Mike smiled, and Graham always did like his smile. _'Why don't you draw then?_

_'What?_

_'Draw,'_ Mike shrugged. _'Don't pretend that you can't; I've seen the stuff you had in your locker.'_

 _'No one was meant to see them,'_ Graham frowned at Mike, heart rate spiking with nerves. _'How did you see them?'_

Mike smile grew wider, cheeky. _'I have my ways,'_ His says, head tilted to the side. _'You got my physique down by the way-'_

Graham's face reddened, and he was thankful when Mike turned away from and proceeded into the water.

And that's what they did, after work on a Friday they came to the river and chatted, messed around. Oh, if his dad saw what he got up to, he'll never hear the end of it, but here, together they could be themselves without worry.

But Graham still refused to get near the water, the feel of the phantom of a childhood friend's hand on his arm always there, warning him against it. Cold and wet. Shivers up the spine. He watched instead, eyes locked on Mike's body as he swam around, muscled back, defined. Never ever leaving, which meant he noticed when Mike never resurfaced one time, seconds and then minutes ticking by. 

Too long. Too long-

Graham rushed forward, eyes trying to see through the depths and finding nothing, voice screaming his name as he for the first time waded into the murky depths. Eyes unfocused under the water, hands reaching out and grabbing at whatever he could find. The minutes ticking on by with Graham having to resurface for breath-

He froze, shivers running up his spine when that same icy touch grabbed his leg, pulling him down, grasping him from beneath the darkness. Water in lungs, arms flailing and then his body slammed against the embankment, chest heaving with needed breaths-

 _'You're an idiot, Mike,'_ Graham yelled from the edge of the river. _'What the hell were you playing at?'_

_'I told you not to go in there, Graham O'Brien,'_

A voice said from above. Something or better put, someone he hasn't heard in years. His eyes snap open, locking against the pale face of his childhood friend, unaged, eyes still dark and skin grey. _'Adam?'_

_'Your friend is further down the river,'_

_'What?'_

_'I'm sorry.'_

And as quick as he was there, he vanished like breath on glass, instant. Graham frowned at the spot vacated, brain slow and still recovering. It's only a moment later that he jumps up, head snapping downstream. _'Mike.'_ He muttered, wet feet thumping on the grass and skidding to a stop when he spots him kneeling over the water. _'Mike-'_

Mike's response is sluggish like Adam's when mere moments ago it was lively. _'Graham?'_

 _'Get away from the water, you idiot,'_ Graham demanded as he stomps forward. _'I always said I hated it when you swam in there and look I was bleeding right!'_

Mike frowned at that, eyes flicking out over the river before locking onto Graham. _'What-'_

Graham doesn't let him finish the sentence, arms pulling the other man into a wet, frozen hug. A hug that chills Graham to the bone.

_'What happened, Graham?'_

Graham stares out at the water, a lump growing in his throat when he spots the body turned over in the water, unmoving and bobbing along. If he's hugging Mike then-

 _'I told you not to swim here, Graham,'_ Adam spoke again. _'The river is always dangerous after rainfall; I told you this.'_ There is a pause, and Graham feels the coldness on his shoulder, comforting he suppose. _'I'm sorry.'_

The events after that were a blur, too much to handle and deal with. A casket into the ground, family and friends crying. His face set in stone within the loud settlement of the dead, it's always been busy to Graham. Interference like static on a TV, setting his hair on edge.

 _'Thanks for getting my body, love,'_ Mike murmured, voice whispy. _'I should have listened to your warnings.'_

But Graham ignored him, pushed him away and soon enough he vanished much like the rest of them, living and dead, gone, leaving him standing alone in the graveyard to grieve for a man that he can't tell people he loved.

Months passed and the days got more manageable after that, he never gave it another thought, pushed it further and further down, refusing to acknowledge it. Move to another place when the people appeared, lingering around and watching him while other people ignored them or subconsciously stepped around them.

Now, if he pretended that they weren't there, then they weren't, and this was his life. Lonely in aspects, never staying long enough in one area because the visages are always drawn to him.

That is until Sheffield and Grace and Ryan, a family of sorts. No figures, well a shadow of one, but he never paid her attention because she never had her eyes on him, just Ryan. That's all she cared about, and maybe that's why she was merely a shadow that passed by now and then. 

Then the Doc crashed into their lives, bringing madness and pain and grief.

And her, 

A figment he said, so convinced she was one, but he spoke to her like she was there because it helped. But where warmth would usually rush from her, the cold took its place, and he ran to the blue box instead because it was safe in there because they never appeared within it. Sitting in his house, wallowing and talking to figures conjured from grief didn't help, but travelling with the Doc did.

Until she jumped in the water to try and save the woman he knew to be dead and old anxieties flared, trickling over his spine. Arm aching from the touch so long ago now. Thankfully this time, it wasn't just him who saw people milling about that shouldn't be walking.

But he still never brought it up, pushed it down and away like he's done since the age of twenty and fourteen. Refused to indulge in the people popping up briefly before being squashed back down. The spa was the worse it's been for a while now, confusion apparent on all of their faces, so many dead and a planet to boot as well.

After that, though, it got easier to ignore them again. His hands were willing to touch a corpse to confirm his death, a strange spaceship with a man called Jack, an ocean of plastic and a pathogen introduced. He briefly wondered if he would see Jake, but the Doc saved him, reunited him with his husband and for once Graham was glad that he didn't see the visage of a dead man.

Or something, it's not like he believes they're dead. It's all his imagination, a coping method because the truth? That's worse, that's insanity. People don't just see-

 _Things_.

Then there were things beamed into his head, voices pushing against his skull pleading for help. Planets colliding, stars- His mates from the buses worried over him, asked how he was after that. Of course, he pushed them away because how do you say 'Nah lads, I'm good, just saw a vision-' without sounding like a lunatic?

Well, talk to a lunatic he supposed, and that's who he phoned the moment his mates left. The Doc answered, demanded where the planets were and hooked him to a machine that dug through his brain like a dog looking for a bone.

Oh, it hurt, pressure building, but they got there, thought they were helping before they all got captured. Fears realised, anxieties pooling around them all, but at least he was confident that it was a figment this time, let them all believe in the same thing for a moment.

Or at least until the villa. Ryan and Yaz claimed they saw ghosts, shadows brimming at the edge of their vision and for the first time, he considered that maybe he's not the only one who sees them. That what he sees might actually be real for once and not years of suppressed emotions.

And he spoke freely about them for the first time in years only to realise that they never saw what he saw, the maid and the creepy little kid. What they saw was Shelley; what he saw was different.

It's why he's waited, lingered behind to speak to the Doc alone, to get answers once and for all. She might've been unable to find the words before, but he hopes this time she has them because he's at a loss.

'Hey, uh, Doc,'

'Graham?' The Doctor asked in a puzzled tone. 'I thought you went to bed with the others?'

Graham shuffled on his feet, hands pulling at his T-Shirt. 'Yeah, no, I got something to, um, speak to you about really, but it's daft, stupid really.'

The Doctor paused, hands stopping upon the console as she looks back up at him. 'What is it?'

'You know, back in the forest,'

'Yeah.'

'I asked about those people I saw, and none of you said you saw them.'

The Doctor leans back from the console, brows knitting together. 'Are you worried about them?'

'Uh, no, and no, that's not why I'm here, Doc,' Graham explained, finding a voice he buried long ago. 'There are things that I've-' He stops, concerned that she'll think him crazy. '-don't laugh because I'm gonna be serious.'

The change is quick, blink and you'll miss it, but the Doctor straightens, face turning from puzzlement to guarded. 'What did you want to say, Graham?'

Graham takes in a breath and steps forward. 'Do ghosts exist?'

The Doctor blinks at Graham, stumped by the question for a moment. 'What?'

'Do they?' Graham repeated, stepping ever closer. 'You answer some questions and leave others hanging, is this one of those times that you leave it hanging, Doc?'

'What has brought this on, Graham?'

'Thing is, there are things in my life, things I buried and hid, and I don't know now," Graham rambled, voice tumbling away from him. "Cos if they are real then-" He hesitated on the next part, drawing it out as blue eyes lock against hazel. "-I see dead people, Doc, 'ave done all my life, I think.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoopy

There's silence, and Graham honestly expected that considering the revelation he just dropped onto her lap. Hell, if he didn't get silence then, well, he would've been surprised.

But the silence drags on and on, her eyes searching his for a hint of something, anything that could explain his bombshell.

'Doc.' Graham spoke, breaking the quiet thrum of the ship. 'I ain't messing about here.'

The Doctor's face twists and flickers, eyes slightly narrowing. 'What did you see?'

'What do you mean?'

'In the house, Graham, what did you see?' The Doctor asked, voice steady but commanding him to answer. 'Explain to me in exact details what you actually saw in there.' Her hands move with the order, driving it home.

Graham blows out air, shoulders slumping tentatively. 'Two people, a woman, dressed like a maid, and a girl, no older than ten probably.'

'And what did they do?'

'I dunno, watched me, brought me food I guess when I was watching old sleeping beauty,' Graham answered, hand twisting the edge of his loose T-Shirt. "It was before he walked through the wall."

'That was it?'

'Yeah, I guess, they said 'nout and did 'nout, 'part from the food,' Graham shrugged. 'Probably the most I interacted with them for a while-'

'Them?'

"Yeah," Graham nods, stepping closer. 'Look, I ain't crazy, Doc-'

'I never said you were,'

'Yeah, but it sounds insane, don't it?'

'I'm sure there is a rational explanation for this, Graham.' The Doctor smiled or tried to, but there is a spark of something beneath it in Graham's opinion. 'Is it just them you saw?'

'In the house?'

The Doctor nodded. 'Did you see anyone else there, that wasn't them or Shelley?'

'I never saw Shelley, but-' Graham paused, eyes flicking around the console room to make sure they're alone. From Ryan or Yaz, or perhaps something else, he's not too sure now. '-that wasn't the first time I saw them, Doc.'

'Graham?'

'I chalked it up to a wild imagination, but honestly, I knew something was up. Always have done, just pushed it away because it's lunacy, no one sees dead people, do they?'

'But according to you, you do.'

Graham shrugged again, arms moving with it and gesturing. 'Am I insane?' He asked, looking closely at the Doctor. 'Or is there something up with me, something that Ryan and Yaz don't have 'cos they didn't see that woman did they?'

'Woman?' The Doctor frowned. 

'Yeah,' Graham nodded. 'The one who sent me those images.'

'Do you mean Rakaya?'

'Was that her name?' Graham said. 'Cos I didn't have time to, well, it don't matter 'bout that, not when I'm staring in the Sixth Sense' ere.'

The Doctor brows furrowed together, deep lines indenting on her forehead. She brings her hand up and places it against her chin. 'I did wonder why she picked you at the time, but-'

'But?'

'I'm not sure,' The Doctor answered. 'Could be a number of reasons, Graham.'

'Right,'

The Doctor glanced away, eyes narrowing. 'I could take a look if you wanted.'

'Into the ghosts?'

The Doctor inclined her head. 'Perhaps.'

'Do you believe me?' Graham questioned. 'I wouldn't hold it against you if ya didn't 'cos it doesn't half sound barmy, I get that, but I wanna know if you believe me or not, Doc, wanna know if we're on the same level 'ere.'

'I need to-' The Doctor paused, hands on her hips and face etched into a permanent puzzled expression. '-correlate data and… stuff.'

'You want proof.'

The Doctor looked back over to Graham, smiling twitching at the corner of her mouth. 'That too.'

Graham snorted. 'Alright.'

'Alright?'

'Yeah,' Graham nodded. 'I can give you the data you need if you take me somewhere,' He grimaced. 'Not that I really wanna go there if I'm honest, but it's a place to start, ain't it?'

'I suppose a pit stop before I use Shelley's writings wouldn't harm much.'

'Cheers, Doc,' Graham said, nerves growing in his chest.

'Where is it?'

'The river Chelmer in Essex,' Graham informed. 'Not too far from Little Baddow.'

'Okay, next stop, Little Baddow-'

* * *

Landing in the small village of Little Baddow proved easy for once, something that Graham was glad off when he exited the TARDIS to look over it for the first time in nearly forty years. There's a gust of wind behind him and the sound of wooden doors closing. 'That was the school I went to.'

The Doctor followed Graham's gaze, eyes taking in the church and brows creasing together. 'That's a church, Graham.'

'It was Sunday school, Doc; my parents sent me there to make friends.' Graham replied, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. 'Come on the river is this way.'

He turns from the church, eyes lingering on the graveyard as he passes it like he expects the dead to rise. The chill is there, always there and it's not from the fresh spring air blowing through the blooms of daffodils in between the stones. Graham shivers, tingles dancing across his spine and forcing him to turn his head away from the macabre. They walk on past with Graham not once turning to look at the graves dotted closest to the public footpath.

'Are you okay, Graham?'

Graham glanced towards the Doctor. 'I never did like graveyards, never have done.'

'How come?'

'It's like static,' Graham's brows furrowed together in thought. 'Hard to explain.'

The Doctor faces Graham. Her eyes crinkle at the corner like she's thinking. 'I understand, Graham.'

Graham raises an eyebrow at that. 'You do?'

She sort of shrugs and faces forward again. 'Humans think so loudly, Graham, it's hard not to notice it.'

'What does that mean?'

'I'm a touch telepath,' The Doctor responded, her hand coming forward and moving through the air, fingers wiggling. 'Remember when I showed Percy his death?' Graham nodded, his attention firmly locked onto her. 'It's like that, but sometimes I can get something from you without touching-'

'You mean you've read our minds?'

The Doctor shakes her head, mount twitching in amusement. 'No, Graham, it's more of a sense really.'

'Oh,' Graham mumbled. He looks forward again. 'We're nearly there.'

'The river,' The Doctor said. 'Why here, Graham?'

'Something happened,' Graham answered, coldness creeping ever closer to him. 'You'll see.'

He steps forward and clambers over the stile separating the small village from the river with the Doctor following him over. 'Will Ryan and Yaz wonder where we've gone?'

'If they wake up,' The Doctor said. 'To them, it's still night time aboard the TARDIS.'

'Don't tell them about this, Doc,' Graham asked as he starts the short trip to the river edge. 'I don't think they'd understand, at least not until I understand it myself.'

'I won't say anything, Graham,' The Doctor reassured with a slight smile. 'We'll figure this out.'

Graham sets his mouth in a thin line, eyes searching the river and heart hammering in his chest in a two-beat rhythm that drums in his ears. Thud thud, thud thud. Thud thud-

He sucks in a deep breath, icy chill grasping inside his throat before exhaling in fog.

'It's cold,' The Doctor murmured to his left, brows knitting together. 'It's spring, but this is unnatural.'

Graham tunes her out. His stomach coils, bringing sickness with it. Anxiety blooms across the back of his neck, arm aching from the chill from so long ago now-

'I should scan the area-' The Doctor continued—a short buzzing following her voice soon after.

But Graham pays her no mind, not when there's a brush of something against him and a shadow coalescing in front of him in a shape he knows all too well.

_'Graham?'_

'Adam.'

The Doctor's sonic stops in an instant, her head snapping to Graham's pale face.

 _'You're back.'_ Adam stated, head tilting to the side and shadowed eyes locking onto the Doctor. _'Who is-'_

'She's a friend.'

_'Like your other friend?'_

Graham's hand clenched briefly. 'No, she's just a mate, she's not like he was.'

The Doctor follows Graham's gaze once again. 'You can see someone, can't you, Graham?'

Adam's head moves to the Doctor again, sluggish as ever. _'She knows?'_

'She's seeing if she can help me, and she's good, she might-'

_'Help you?'_

The Doctor scrunches her face in thought. Her eyes flick to her hand and then back to Graham again. 'Graham, I want to try something,' Graham finally removes his eyes from Adam's pale form and focuses them onto the Doctor. 'You remember how I said I was a touch telepath?'

'Yeah.'

'Let me see.' The Doctor said, her hand coming out towards Graham and staying there.

Adam flicks his eyes between the pair. _'What does she mean, Graham?'_

Graham stares at her hand before reaching forward and clasping it tightly. The Doctor's eyes close, and Graham's feels a presence, something familiar yet alien tugging at the corner of his mind.

'Doc-'

'Nearly there, Graham,' The Doctor murmured, eyes opening slowly and looking outwards. 'Your mind is different, Graham, vastly so-'

'Can you-' Graham started to say, cutting himself off when the Doctor grips his hand tighter, almost painfully so. 'Doc, a little tight.'

'What are you?' The Doctor asked, causing Adam to stare back at her. 'You're not alien, sonic would've picked that up, but you're here, and my mate Graham can see you.'

_'You can see me?'_

'Through my friend, yes,' The Doctor replied, curtly. 'Are you dangerous?'

Adam gazes at the Doctor before facing Graham again. _'She shouldn't be able to see us.'_

'Why's that?' The Doctor demanded. 'Why is it that only Graham can see you?'

Adam doesn't face her; his eyes remain locked on Graham. _'She should stop, Graham, make her stop!'_

'Why shouldn't she see you?' Graham asked, voicing the Doctor's question for her. 'It's no different to me seeing you, isn't it?'

 _'Only the few can see us, Graham, and she isn't like you,'_ Adam answered. _'We're attracted to you, Graham, but you're bringing her into this, she'll be a target.'_

'What does that mean?'

 _'You don't know what you are, you never did,'_ Adam stated. _'You buried us from yourself, you never knew.'_

Graham looked towards the Doctor, her face amazed by what she's seeing, but also curious and concerned. He frowned, eyes turning back to Adam again. 'Sorry, Doc,' Graham said, pulling his hand free. 'What am I, Adam? Between you and me, it's just us now.'

'Graham?' The Doctor blinked at Graham. 'What are you doing?'

Adam focused back on Graham. _'You're a conduit, Graham, ever since you were born.'_

'What's that?'

 _'You bridge the gap between worlds; it's why we're attracted to you,'_ Adam answered. _'You're safe from us, but she isn't, and some of us are malicious and jealous of the living.'_

'What does that mean?'

 _'They'll attack her now, you brought her into this world, and she can't see us, but she's tainted, I can taste it on her,'_ The dead boy replied. _'You should go, Graham.'_

'Wait-' Graham started, stopping when Adam's pale body vanishes from view. 'Damn it.'

'What did he say, Graham?'

Graham glanced at the Doctor, eyes flicking over her face. 'Nothing.'

'Graham-'

Graham forced a smile. 'He said nothing, Doc, look can we go?'

'What is he?'

Graham faced the river again. 'He's dead, Doc.' He grunted out. 'Has been for years.'

'But you saw him-'

'Forget about this, Doc,' Graham turned and faced the Doctor head-on. 'I shouldn't have said anything.'

The Doctor went to reach out to her friend, frowning in concern, when he pulled away. 'Shelley's coordinates can wait.' She faced the river again; eyes narrowed in thought. 'I can help you, Graham.'

Graham exhaled and joined the Doctor by the river. 'He said you're tainted.'

The Doctor faced Graham. 'What?'

'He said I brought you into this, marked you and made it dangerous.'

'What does that mean?'

Graham shrugged. 'This was a mistake.' He runs a hand down his face. 'Adam said they will come after you now.'

'Who will?'

Graham flicked his eyes to the Doctor. 'The dead.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can't say when or if i'll work on this because before i focus on it i need to finish prison break but i wrote most of this out ages ago

**Author's Note:**

> I left this open-ended.


End file.
